


And the Seven

by corvidae9



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cracktastic Premises, DH-noncompliant, Excessive amounts of Weasley children, Fractured Fairytales, Gen, M/M, adventures in babysitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-09
Updated: 2006-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:22:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22857673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corvidae9/pseuds/corvidae9
Summary: Yes, OK, but it's Draco's turn to tell that story, and that makes him the bloody hero for once. (H/D)
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	And the Seven

**Author's Note:**

> Long ago in LJ land, miints made the suggestion for H/D Snow White and the Seven Dwarves in the comments to some ridiculously adorable chibi h/d fan art by red_rahl, and my then-VP of crack production, knitmeapony, and I ran with it and brainstormed. And then I wrote... 12K words of it. :) Originally posted to LJ comm hp_fairytales.

Harry sat on the floor with his back to the well-worn sofa in Ron and Luna's house, a lapful of their (finally) sleeping ginger toddler. He was almost dozing himself, until a virtual army of children in different sizes that all somewhat resembled the little one in his lap came running through the door from the kitchen, shrieking, hands full of dripping, half-finished ice cream cones. Rubbing one eye, he tried to glare at Draco, who seemed to be doing the herding, but failed when he caught sight of the look halfway between amusement and disgust on his face.

"UNCLE HARRY, UNCLE HARRY," more than one of them shouted, as a bounce on the cushions of the sofa behind him was followed by Angie Junior's face suddenly suspended upside down over his, hands on Harry's shoulders as her tightly-curled, dark cinnamon pigtails fell along either side of her flushed face.

"Uncle Draco let us set off a whole box of dad and Uncle George's fireworks," she beamed. "You missed it. We almost set the big oak on fire."

The toddler in Harry's lap stretched her little fingers up to grab at his ear and he rocked her unconsciously as he nodded, his eyes darting to a shrugging Draco. "That's... wow. I did miss it, didn't I?"

"And they were so entertained, Uncle Harry," said Draco. "It was amazing. They all stayed in one place, and were easy to control-- err. Corral. When are their parents coming home again?"

"Laaate!!" shouted the two identical boys in horn-rimmed glasses just like their father, yet smeared in ice cream and already wrestling over the last bit of cone left in the one's hand. "Means we can stay here and plaaaaay."

"Lovely," said Draco with a very cheerful, very false smile. "I cannot wait to collect on what I get out of agreeing to this."

"Is it candy, Uncle Draco?" asked a little girl with plump cheeks whose serious expression and near-perfect diction made her sound just like her mother. "Daddy gives me Romanian candy when I've volunteered to do something hard, even if it turns out to be fun. It's called positive reinforcement. Mummy gives me books."

"Oh?" said Draco, patting her on the head twice. "That's lovely, Izzie."

"Well? Is it candy or books?" she asked again, not at all deterred by Draco's dismissal, and Harry snickered, his hand moving to shield the sleeping Celina's head as Angie Junior was knocked over his shoulder by a flying tackle by little Arthur, whooping a triumphant battle cry as he flew. Izzie set disapproving hands on her hips at the roughhousing and muttered, "It really ought to be something good."

"You're telling me," muttered Draco, crossing his arms and covering his mouth with one hand, clearly at wit's end.

Before Harry could try and bail him out, Celina spoke sleepily as she peered up at Harry, tugging on his ear. "Tell me a story, Uncle Harry," she murmured, burrowing further against him, and suddenly there was a new battle cry among the six other children.

Even Jonathan who had already set to meticulously deconstructing the old wireless set in the corner joined them in shouting, "Story! STORY!!"

"Ok, alright," said Harry, "Why don't we--"

"Why don't you all go up and wash your faces and hands," interrupted Draco with the air of having had a very good idea. "And when you get back, I'll tell you all a wonderful story."

"STORY!!" the six older children shouted, inhaling any remaining ice cream and/or dropping anything in hand as they made for the stairs at a run. Celina sighed, "Story," popped a finger in her mouth and shut her eyes again.

"Should I even ask?" said Harry, shifting slightly so that he could let his head fall back against the armrest.

Draco smirked. "Probably not." He surveyed the area thoughtfully, then conjured a thick blanket at his feet. It unrolled itself, sliding under Harry of its own volition, and puffing up to the thickness of a cushion, sprouting more cushions around the edges.

Giggling on the stairs heralded the return of the quickest children and Harry rolled his eyes as he said, "Come on kids. I'm dying to hear this story." As an afterthought, he pointed at Draco and whispered, "Watch yourself. I don't need their parents having ten different sorts of fits over whatever rubbish you fill their heads with."

Angie and Arthur precluded any answer from the suddenly innocent Draco as they raced down the stairs, exclaiming, "Oooh!!" at the setup. As they dive-bombed the blanket for the best spaces, Jonathan, Bobby and Martin followed suit, almost falling over themselves in the rush, leaving Izzie taking careful steps down and settle delicately in the space nearest Draco. The, "Story, story," chant was just beginning again and Draco held his hand up to stop it.

"Silence, you pack of hyenas," Draco said as amiably as he could manage, adding at Harry's _Look_ , "somewhat charming hyenas, granted, but wild animals nonetheless. I've a wonderful tale for you."

Izzie settled her head against Draco's arm and he patted her awkwardly, confused again as he began.

"Once upon a time..."

###

...there was a Devastatingly Handsome Prince. Unfortunately, there is a great deal of story that takes place before we meet him, but know that there will in fact be a prince to save the day. And that he's devastatingly handsome.

At any rate, there was also once a queen with red, red hair like Izzie's here, but she had bright green eyes and though she was ridiculously, inexplicably happy in her kingdom full of fools and Gryffindors with her husband the rather unkempt king, what she desired most of all was a child to carry on the line. As she sat beside the window one cold winter evening, mending frilly underthings, or whatever women sit around and mend, she pricked herself with her needle and a tiny drop of blood welled up at the tip of her finger. After she swore in a very unladylike manner, her attention was drawn away to a shooting star and she quickly pressed her bleeding finger to the frosty windowpane and made a wish.

"I wish for a child with skin as pale and perfect as the snow, lips as red as this blood and eyes spring-bright like mine; with hair..." Here she paused and thought, because being very clever, she knew that one's hair is half of one's natural attraction. Unfortunately, she was also very attached to her husband and didn't think hard enough when she said, "...hair like that of my good husband the king-- black as night and soft as silk."

Clearly, she forgot to specify, "and not a total, perpetual disaster, like that of the king," but regardless, she got her wish and nine months later, give or take, she gave birth to a squalling, smelly bundle of very loud joy. While she was ever so grateful for the child, she was also a little miffed that it was a boy, given that she could no longer name it, 'Snow White'. Or rather, miffed that she tried anyway, but the king could actually imagine the terror of living life as a man with a name like 'Snow White' and convinced her to name the little princess...err... prince, 'Harry'.

###

"I cannot believe you," muttered Harry as the children giggled. Celina stared at Draco through the finger in her mouth and Arthur rolled onto his back over the cushion.

"Is this a true story?" Arthur asked dubiously. "I didn't know Uncle Harry was a prince."

"He's not, silly," said Izzie. "But he's a real-life hero because of how--"

" _Anyway_ ," interrupted Arthur.

"Anyway," said Draco, licking his lip in amusement.

###

Anyway, the queen, king and little prince were happy, even though bad things were happening around them. An Evil Sorceror was trying his best to overthrow their kingdom and the king and queen and their army did their best to stop him, but after a year the Evil Sorceror was able to break into the palace. He killed the king and queen, though somehow the prince, even though he was just a baby, was able to defeat the Sorceror. The kingdom was at once incredibly glad but in mourning, and though they all wore black, they danced in the streets for the defeat of the Sorceror.

The Prince was next in line for the throne, but he was too young, and so the council appointed his aunt, the Duchess Horseface and her husband, the Duke of Lumpsome, as his guardians. Jealous and wishing for power themselves, they went a long way to mistreat the prince, for it hadn't yet occurred to the fools that when Prince Harry grew up and took the throne, he'd be powerful enough to smash them like insects should he so choose.

What no one knew was that the Evil Sorceror hadn't really been vanquished. He'd spent the intervening years finding his loyal followers. Incorporeal at first, he made his servants carry out heinous acts that gave him a body and most of his magical strength back, even though he was hideous to behold. He hid in a cave on the outskirts of the kingdom, biding his time and waiting for his opportunity to strike.

On the Prince's sixteenth birthday, the Duke and Duchess grudgingly scheduled a ball, because though they hated the Prince with all of their being, they did like a good party, and they knew the council would not argue with any extravagant expense on behalf of their young hero. In fact, they insisted upon it. As such--

###

"Alright, there?" said Draco, as he looked up from the rapt Weasley children to find Harry staring a hole through him, less than amused.

"Just fine, Malfoy," said Harry, his expression very clearly broadcasting that he was not quite able to decide if he was offended or annoyed, but unwilling to take it up here and now, so this had better be good. Instead, he took a breath and smoothed Celina's hair as he murmured, "Finish your story."

Izzie whispered loudly to Angie, "Mummy says when they drag the last names out, one of two things is bound to happen, and she'll explain the one that's not a fight when I'm older. I suspect it's--"

Angie giggled as did Arthur and Jonathan, and Draco gave her a small shake. "Thank you. That's quite enough, princess."

###

As such, The night of Prince Harry's birthday came, and the palace was lit up from one end to another and done up with decorations the Prince would never fully appreciate, but he thought they were nice nonetheless. He made his grand appearance in the ballroom and all of the kingdom applauded and cheered, which was hilarious given that the Prince was incredibly shy and not fond of crowds. Still he flushed rather prettily and made his way down the staircase, shaking hands and generally being insufferable.

Remember the Devastatingly Handsome Prince? Well, he was there with his father, the ruler of a neighboring kingdom, and he was riveted by the sight. Although he himself was gorgeous enough to stop traffic by either carriage or foot, this prince was quite taken with Prince Harry, and decided to find a way to make his way over and pay his kingdom's respects properly.

###

"Can I help you?" Draco asked Harry, whose stern expression had degenerated into uncontrollable snickering.

Harry stopped laughing with much difficulty and shook his head. "No, no. Please, go on."

"What was the Devastatingly Handsome Prince's name, Uncle Draco?" asked Angie, rolling her eyes.

"Let me guess," smirked Harry.

"Shhh. Story," said Draco.

###

Right. So the Duchess and the Duke also had a son about Prince Harry's age, a fat lump of a useless sod who fancied himself rather above his station given that he was cousin to the Prince and Heir, but who spent a good deal of time finding ways to make the Prince miserable, given that he wasn't the Prince himself. He was such a horrid little bastard, I forget his name, but we're going to call him Piggins.

Piggins was at the ball, too, and had also not missed Prince Harry's appearance, and oh, he was angry and jealous of the attention, as he always was. Now, you know as well as I do that people who are angry and jealous don't think straight, and so he made a beeline for the Prince, somehow beating the Devastatingly Handsome Prince to the punch, probably because he was barrelling through the crowd without regard for anyone he trampled underfoot. When he got to Harry, he put on a worried expression that made him resemble something close to a choleric warthog.

"Prince Harry! You've got to come quick!" he squealed. Err. Wailed.

Prince Harry cocked his head at his cousin, half-waiting for a fist to the midsection or some other petty cruelty. "...What?" he asked warily.

"It's my mother!" said Piggins, appealing to Prince Harry's nature as an heroic sap. "She's hurt, and she's asking for you!"

Only hesitating for a moment, Prince Harry nodded. "Show me." Heroic he was, but not the most intelligent some days, and too trusting by half.

He followed Piggins out of the ballroom but when Piggins stopped in a back corridor, Prince Harry took a step back. "The Duchess is just fine, isn't she?"

Piggins smiled nastily, and clocked the Prince directly upside his pretty face. Prince Harry went down hard and was out cold.

###

"Oh bollocks!" shouted Johnathan. "Uncle Harry would have kicked him in his--"

"Shhh!" said Draco, pointing at the boy. "Who said we were talking about Uncle Harry? This is Prince Harry's story, thanks."

Harry leaned over and ruffled Johnathan's hair mumbling, "That's my boy."

"Shhh!"

###

Anyway. Prince Harry woke up in the dark with a bad headache and an unattractive bruise on his cheek. He stood up and felt about him, and came to the conclusion that he was in a closet. When he found the door, he banged and banged on it until a small, gnarled servant named Dobby opened it.

"Master Harry!" shouted Dobby. "Why are you in the closet?"

Obvious as the answer was, Prince Harry did not answer. Enraged, he went directly to the ballroom and sought out his cousin, Piggins. When he arrived at the ballroom, the fact that the crowd had thinned dramatically told him that he had missed most of the party, and great clock only confirmed it. Even the Devastatingly Handsome Prince had gone home with his father, thinking like everyone else who had noticed that the Prince had gone missing that he'd found some way to distract himself.

When he found Piggins, he grabbed him by the collar, spinning Piggins to face the Prince, even though the lump outweighed him by at least five stone, such was the nature of his wrath.

"You've laid hands on me for the last time," said the Prince, loudly enough for anyone in the great ballroom to witness. "As Prince and Heir, I command that you be exiled from my kingdom, never to return upon pain of death."

A loud wail rose up from the Duchess' direction and Piggins made to take a swing at the Prince. The Prince, however, was ready this time and dodged it easily, and the palace guards removed him from sight.

Prince Harry left the party with a glare for his aunt and uncle and lived in peace for all of about a fortnight. During that time, the Duchess spent her nights staring out of the window, and her days wailing and gnashing her teeth, tearing at her hair, which did nothing for her already-haggard appearance. Desperate and out of the half a mind she'd possessed to begin with, she got out her sister's magical books and paraphernalia, and set to conjuring a demon from whom she could demand help in gaining her revenge.

The Duchess Horseface, however was terrible at magicks, which would be why she never got as far as her sister the Queen. In reading the incantations, she ad-libbed, asking for a 'scourge to her nephew; his greatest fear and potential downfall' rather than just someone that could give him warts and make him wither and die.

As such, she did in fact call up a scourge specific to Prince Harry - the Evil Sorceror of legend.

"Bring me his heart, foul creature!" shouted the Duchess. "Bring me his heart so that I may smash it underfoot as he has done mine!"

###

Harry was staring at Draco again, expression unreadable.

With the quirk of his lip, Draco cocked his head ever so slightly right back, but then Izzie poked his knee and he remembered to go on.

###

So, the Prince was living it up these days, knowing that it was less than a year until his official ascension to the throne, and that his cousin would trouble him no more. Certainly he'd heard of his aunt's affliction, but he cared not, given her own treatment of Prince Harry these past fifteen years. He was more cheerful and carefree than he'd ever been, and the palace household loved him more than ever. Not that they ever hadn't, given he was everyone's favorite Golden Boy, but this was ridiculous. Rumor was, he'd be the best ruler the kingdom had ever seen, and every one of his subjects lavished him with love and adulation.

During his time, Prince Harry also did a lot of hiding in the palace gardens.

Which is where Dobby found him early in the morning roughly two weeks after the exile of Piggins. Dobby was more overexcited than ever, and carrying a rucksack almost as big as he.

"Master Harry!" Dobby cried. "Master Harry! You must go!"

Prince Harry looked at Dobby as though he might be mad, which, in all fairness was probable. "Go where? Dobby, slow down."

"Go, sire! Away!" Dobby said, agitated as he slammed his own head into a nearby tree. "MmmRPH! I should be beheaded for the disrespect of telling you to leave your own castle! But you must! Your aunt, she's conjured something horrible and it's after you. She told it to pluck out your heart!"

"That's impossible, Dobby," said the pretty, yet dim Prince. "My aunt doesn't know how--"

"Your mother's books, sire," said Dobby, wringing his hands. "I heard-- I saw!!"

Suddenly the clouds went dark and began rolling over the gardens at an unnatural pace, and Prince Harry's eyes widended. Dobby thrust the rucksack into his hands and rubbed his hands together. "Go, sire! I will do my best to slow him!" Prince Harry took another step backward as Dobby turned his back to him and held his hands up in the face of the encroaching darkness and shouted, "You shall not harm the Prince!"

Without another thought, Prince Harry fled out of the gardens, to the rear gate. He strapped the rucksack on, climbed the wooden ladder onto the battlements and looked out over the edge, before shutting his eyes and concentrating on the little magic he knew he could do on his own. He then took a step off of the wall, gritting his teeth... and sank slowly, step by step to the earth.

As his feet hit the ground, he continued to run, though he did not know where, running through the forest at top speed in fear for his very life. Eventually he tired and slowed, but didn't dare stop, continuing to trot and then walk, and then finally trudge when he could do more.

Suddenly a huge weight hit him in two places on his shoulderblades, sending him sprawling with a huge weight on his back, holding him down.

A dark, frightening voice growled in the Prince's ear, "He's offered a prize for your heart, pretty thing, and I've just the teeth to get it for him."

###

"I don't like it!" wailed Celina, burying her face against Harry's chest. "Stop it!"

Bobby and Martin exchanged a look before one said, "He'll be fine, 'Lina."

"You'll see," said the other. "He's the hero."

"He's not allowed to die," the first said with a nod.

"Right, Uncle Draco?" they said simultaneously.

"Exactly," said Draco, as Harry soothed Celina. "What he said-- SHHH."

###

What felt like a paw turned Prince Harry over and he was now face to face with the gaping maw of a giant, slobbering wolf. The wolf bared his teeth again, but suddenly pulled back as if burned."You-- you can't--," it growled.

"Me?" said Prince Harry, shaking even as he tried to scramble away.

"I didn't think..." the wolf said. "I didn't think you'd look just like them."

Prince Harry shook his head, swallowing hard as he tried to stand. "Like who?"

"Your parents. The king and queen," said the wolf, "they were my friends until the Sorceror trapped me in this form. He promised to give my normal form back if I brought him your heart... but I can't do it." The wolf lowered his belly and tail to the ground, nose between his paws. "You look just like them. I'm not worth it."

"Oh god. Oh god, thank you," said Prince Harry, "I'm so... I'm... hang on. Did you say, the Sorceror is who's after me? But I thought he was dead?"

The wolf shook his head. "No he's alive, or what passes for it." A frenzy of wolf calls sounded in the forest nearby, and the wolf sprang to his feet again. "None of the others will let you escape. Listen very carefully. I'm going to kill a deer and bring him its heart, and lie and say it's yours. That should buy you enough time to make it through the woods there," he said pointing with his nose, "to a cottage where there lives a family with strong ancient magic, hidden well from the Sorceror's own. They'll protect you-- do you understand?"

"How--?" said the Prince, cut off by a series of howls, closer than the last.

"Go!" snarled the wolf, as he bounded back into the trees and began calling in return.

Say what you want about Prince Harry, but he caught on quickly when his life was on the line, at least. He ran in the direction the wolf told him to run, and didn't look back. The wolf did exactly as he promised he would do, though when the treachery was discovered, things did not go well for him.

###

"Poor wolf," sniffled Izzie.

"Professor Lupin won't take it well that you've gone and killed him off," said Arthur.

"I didn't say he was dead!" Draco said defensively. "I only said things didn't go well for him. Nor did I say it was Lupin! Pay attention!"

"See Artie. He 'scaped," Celina murmured. "He's a hero, too. They don't die, 'member?"

###

Exhausted, Prince Harry finally broke through the woods and into a clearing, where he saw a snug little cottage, bursting with light and sound and the smells of fresh baking. Smoke was puffing from the chimneys and there were... I don't know. Birds chirping and bunnies frolicking in the yard. He got as far as the front step, where he knocked twice, then promptly fell over and passed out before the door was opened by a ginger-haired man, only about a meter tall.

"Well. Been expecting this one for days, now," he said, raising his voice to shout, "Siblings! Our guest is here!"

###

"I don't think it's fair that the Prince spends all that time passing out," said Harry, arching an eyebrow. "First Piggins, now this..."

"He's a delicate creature, alright? He's been sheltered," said Draco with a shrug.

"His cousin spent fifteen years beating on him!" said Harry, hand thrown up. "How's that delicately sheltered?"

"Hmm. You know what I think?" Draco said thoughtfully. "I think you should be very quiet and pay attention to the bl-- story."

###

When Prince Harry woke up, he found that he was in a bed that was comfortable if oddly lumpy there in the middle toward his bum.

###

Izzie, Bobby and Martin giggled uncontrollably.

Harry muttered, "Oh for--"

###

Which it turned out when Prince Harry sat up, was because he was lying on two short beds pushed together. He looked about, only to find that a diminutive girl with flaming red hair staring at him, suddenly flailing wildly as he focused on her and murmured, "Where--?"

"He's awake!!" she shouted, oblivious to Prince Harry's resultant need to stick a finger in the ear closest her to make sure that it wasn't bleeding.

No sooner had the girl bellowed, than the room was flooded with six other ginger dwarves in various states of cheer, all somewhat hirsute and none taller than the one wearing a fang dangling from one ear, who couldn't have been taller than one and a quarter meters, and none shorter than the female, who was lucky to reach Prince Harry's hip.

###

"Tha's my dad!" said Jonathan. "Only mum says he's not to wear the earring anymore." He looked at Draco and rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. 'Shhh'."

###

"We've been waiting for you!" said the tallest dwarf. "I'm Bill. These are my brothers Charlie, Percy, Fred, George and Ron, and my sister Ginny."

As he introduced them, they all murmured greetings, and Prince Harry furrowed his brow. "Um, not to be ungrateful or anything, but how-- I mean-- are you the family that the wolf sent me to?"

There was a murmur among the siblings and Ron muttered, "We knew that someone would send you, but the wolf..."

"...Is curious," said Percy. "We thought they all worked for Him."

"This one... he said he knew my parents," said Prince Harry. "If that's any help."

Another murmur rippled through their ranks and Charlie spoke next. "You see, boy, he's not really a wolf."

"So I heard," said Prince Harry. "And I'm not boy. I'm... James," he added, hoping to use his middle name to remain incognito.

"Hear that, boys?" said Fred with an approving nod. "This Prince is on his toes."

"Yes!" agreed George, who appeared to be Fred's twin. "Usually takes more than one offense 'fore someone thinks of using an assumed name."

Prince Harry rolled his eyes and dropped his hands to the sheet. "I didn't know I was the one doing the offending."

"Not here, anyway," said Ginny with a grin that practically radiated little hearts, completely unaware of the fact that the Devastatingly Handsome Prince had laid claim on him already.

###

The snickering from the older children reached a crescendo as Harry pointed, "I said, watch yourself, didn't I?"

Draco eyed him, smug and unphased. "Children, we're going to play a fun game now-- it's called 'Harry No Talking Time', and if Harry talks, Harry loses. Can't have him interrupting the story endlessly, now, can we?"

Harry's expression clouded over. "Taking this a little far aren--"

Pointing at Harry, Izzie said solemnly, "That's your warning, Uncle Harry."

###

Anyway, they made it clear that Prince Harry would be safe as long as he stayed with them there at the cottage, and since Prince Harry had no desire to be torn limb from limb either by man-wolves or murdering sorcerors, he readily agreed. They made him a better bed that very day and placed it at the end of the large, upstairs bedroom that all the dwarves shared.

The other stipulation was that the magical wards on the cottage only stretched for half a kilometer in all directions, and Prince Harry needed to be very careful when he was out and about not to cross them, else his location might be scryed or sensed by those who knew how, or seen by any passers-by. To this end, Charlie measured a length of thick twine out to a distance of just under half a kilometer and tied it to the waterpump near the back door, and that way if Prince Harry wanted or needed to go out into the woods, he could take the end of the twine with him, knowing exactly when to stop when he reached the end of the line.

In other words, Prince Harry was safe as long as he was tethered to the house, and while this was a questionable sentiment, the prospect of bloody dismemberment outweighed the idea that he was tied to a cottage filled with ginger dwarves. As such, the first day that the dwarves left the house to work, Prince Harry poked about the house wondering what he might do to thank them for their kindness. He settled on picking berries and washing the breakfast dishes, then he tried his hand at the broom and the duster and realized that he'd clearly been born with some very pedestrian skills. Over the course of the next few weeks, he read old cookbooks and basically made himself useful for once.

###

Draco paused and looked up at Harry, who was predictably glaring, yet saying nothing. Smiling, he said, "Impressive. Celina, give your Uncle Harry a kiss for us, won't you?"

Celina plopped a fat kiss on his cheek and settled back in. "Good job, Uncle Harry. I knew you could win if you wanted."

###

Soon almost a year had passed, and though Prince Harry missed the bustle and luxury of palace life, he was strangely content in the hov-- the cottage. But there came a day when he had taken the twine out into the woods to gather berries for dinner, swearing loudly when he reached the end of the line. You see, not a foot out of his reach was a bush full of the juiciest berries, and his basket was only half-full.

Surely, Charlie had measured under when he'd cut the twine? And surely, it was caught on a shrub or something, thought Prince Harry. He gave in to the impulse and let go of the twine, just long enough to take a step forward and pull the berries off of the shrub and toss then into his basket.

Here's part of the story that I haven't told you-- you see, this corner of the forest was just within the borders of the Devastatingly Handsome Prince's kingdom, and though he rode past the cottage on an almost daily basis, he'd never seen it because of the magic that protected it. Still, when Prince Harry let go of that twine stepped out of the wards, he was exposed, and as it just so happened, the Devastatingly Handsome Prince was out on one of his rides. He caught sight of the farm boy that looked so much like the Prince Harry that had tragically disappeared only a year ago and he couldn't help moving closer, fascinated by the fact that his hair seemed to have a life of its own, or the way that he would pop every fifth berry in his mouth with this look---

Right. But just then, the Devastatingly Handsome Prince's horse whinnied and Prince Harry's head came up in an instant. He dashed over to the end of the twine and took hold of it, only then daring to look at the Devastatingly Handsome Prince, taken utterly by his hair, the very model of shiny platinum glinting in the sun, almost as bright as the armor bearing the family crest along with his personal modifications that had turned the snake into a gleaming dragon.

###

"Fair warning," said Arthur, holding a hand up. "If there's kissing, I'll vomit."

"Me too!" said Bobby and Martin. Angie remained suspiciously quiet, as did Izzie and Johnathan.

Celina sighed and hugged Harry. "I like kisses. Everyone should."

###

The Devastatingly Handsome Prince frowned as the farm boy disappeared from sight, feeling rather cheated. He circled the area several times and though his mount trotted right around Prince Harry, did not see him thanks to the enchantments in place. Finally, he sighed, clucked the reins on his noble steed and wheeled away, taking Prince Harry's heart right away with him, and possibly most of his common sense, given what happens next.

Because you see, The Devastatingly Handsome Prince wasn't the only one to notice Prince Harry's resurfacing. In the year since the Duchess had called up the evil Sorceror, he'd done wretched things. He easily gained control of the Duchess, using her greed and desire for revenge as a portal into her weak mind. The council and the kingdom at large was confused as to how the unkind yet rather dim Duchess Horseface had suddenly become what she had-- a ruthless ruler who squashed any threat of replacing her and the Duke as regents, under cover of renewing the purported effort to find the Prince.

The Sorceror had also in the meantime set his minions to scrying for Prince Harry day and night, refusing to believe that he was dead, though there had been no sign of him for nigh one year. When Prince Harry so foolishly dropped the twine, a minion known only as The Snail had been on duty at the scrying mirror. The Snail nearly wet himself with how excited he was at having been the minion to locate the Prince, only to do it again at the prospect of having lost him again.

The Snail had been frightened to explain to his Master exactly what had happened and how, but he did nonetheless. And then he became the Pile of Smoking Ashes Formerly Known as The Snail. (Don't feel too badly, though-- this was probably the best outcome for everyone except him.)

The Evil Sorceror was still vexed, however, having come so close to taking the Prince, only to be so thwarted, and settled upon a plan. He disguised himself as an ordinary old man (and that took some doing, because he was absolutely hideous, have I mentioned?) and used what information The Snail had found to come up with a dastardly plan of action. Armed with a basket full of brushes and combs, the disguised Sorceror made his way to the obscure portion of the forest that he'd seen in The Snail's memories. Though he scoured the woods from dawn until dusk and beyond for three days without cease (and in the course of doing so, passed directly around and around the dwarves' cottage), he did not give up.

In the meantime, it would have made the Devastatingly Handsome Prince very smug indeed to know that Prince Harry hadn't been able to stop thinking about him. Certainly, he'd only caught a glimpse really, and too far away to properly appreciate just how perfect he was in every way, but he'd apparently seen enough. The dwarves knew something was wrong with him because he was tripping over mops and pails, dropping dishes; they caught him humming and feeding deer on their way out to the mines, and caught him dancing a waltz with the family ostrich on their way home. Certainly he was fat-footed in general, but this behavior was more odd than usual. They tried to ask after his health, but he would only catch himself, mumble about being a little tired, and then remind himself to try to act normal.

###

The children were now snickering (except Celina, who was asleep again), and Harry was staring a hole through the opposite wall, his tongue firmly in cheek. Draco could almost hear him counting to ten in his head. Really, that sort of restraint might have to be rewarded.

###

After three days, Prince Harry decided to go out into the woods again, to the very end of the tether... to find more of the berries, of course, is how he rationalized it to himself. You and I all know that it was about finding the Devastatingly Handsome Prince again, though, and so we won't make excuses for him.

At the very end of the tether, the tantalizing berry bush just a foot from his fingers, Prince Harry swallowed hard and let go. He began to fill his basket, and sure enough, there was a rustling in the trees not far away. As the sound came closer, he almost panicked and caught the tether again, but did not, instead standing tall and waiting for his Pr--

Only, it was not the Devastatingly Handsome Prince. It was a gnarled old man in a dark and travel-dirtied cloak, carrying a large pack. A traveling merchant from the looks of it, and intent on making a sale if the smile on his face was any indication.

"Good my young man," he said, ever so ingratiating in his manner and speech. "Can you tell me please if there is anywhere an honest merchant might make a sale or find lodging for the evening?"

Prince Harry fidgeted, knowing he shouldn't be talking to anyone but the dwarves, and yet the old man hadn't tried to rip his heart out, and seemed fairly harmless. He pointed in the general direction that he'd come from so long ago. "There's nothing for miles, sir, but the nearest town is in that direction. A city of a decent size, as a matter of fact."

"Nothing for miles, you say?!" exclaimed the old man. "Where did you come from, then lad?"

"Oh, me? I um," said Prince Harry, reaching for a tale to tell. "My family has lived in the woods for a very long time. We like the um. Solitude."

"Ah solitude. I see," nodded the old man, who I'm sure you can recognize, being as clever as you are. "Surely your family would like to see my wares?"

Prince Harry shook his head, knowing now for a fact that this had been a bad idea. "No, thank you, sir. They-- err. Don't like strangers. I should--" he said, pointing over his shoulder. "I should go."

"Oh! No! Allow me at least to reward you for your help, my boy!" blustered the old man. "Yes, yes, let's see now--" he looked the Prince up and down, his sharp eyes catching every detail. If he hadn't been certain that he was talking to Prince Harry, he was assured when he caught sight of the faded scar on his brow that was the only reminder of the first time Prince Harry had vanquished him. Rage barely flickering across his features, the old man, smoothed his expression into a kindly smile again.

"I know just the thing," he said as he dug through his pack, pulled out an exquisite comb carved of dark wood and offered it to Prince Harry. "Just the thing to tame that hair, lad, and make the lasses notice you, even out here in the middle of the woods."

We won't touch that comment. The fact that the Sorceror wasn't as perceptive as he thought is not in question here. What is important is that Prince Harry hadn't had nice things in too long, living with the simple forest dwarves, and this was a really nice comb. He took it carefully from the old man and turned it over in his hands once, sighing as he made to hand it back.

"Thank you, but I don't have any money or anything to trade," said the Prince, and the old man did take it back, but only to move forward, insistent.

"No, no. Free of charge, I insist, for your kindness," he smiled. "See? Let me show you. It's a very special comb, one guaranteed to smooth out the most unruly locks," the old man said, lifting the comb to run it through Prince Harry's hair. "Surely, there's someone that you'd want to impress."

Hitting below the sword belt, as it was, the Sorceror struck a nerve and Prince Harry stopped resisting, his thoughts on the Devastatingly Handsome Prince. As the comb slipped through his hair, he immediately felt lighter, happier and less worried. He let his eyes fall shut and imagined for a moment what the Devastatingly Handsome Prince's fingers might feel like, threading through his hair the same way as the comb passed through his hair a second time, he could almost swear he heard hoofbeats in the distance.

Nearly euphoric at the third pass, Prince Harry's knees went weak and he sighed as he fell to the earth. The Sorceror grinned evilly and bent down to tuck the comb into his hair, murmuring to himself as we all are bound to do when we've done something particularly brilliant, only perhaps with not quite as sinister intent.

"Never again will you thwart me," said the Sorceror, as he pulled a great knife from his robes and lifted it high over his head... only to be hit in the chest with a large rock that shoved him back a half-step, followed by another and another until he was forced to retreat, not bothering to pick up his large bag as he fled.

The Dwarves, you see, had come home and found the twine unfurled and no sign of Prince Harry, and fearing for his safety, had followed it out until they located him. Ginny fell to her knees beside his body, as did they all (save Bill), gnashing their teeth and pulling their hair, wailing at their own failure to save the Prince (though as you and I both know it was his own Gryffindor recklessness that did him in here).

###

Both Harry and Arthur made sounds that resembled grumble-snorts, and Angie only gave Draco an unamused eyebrow. Bobby and Martin had no input, asleep as they were in a curiously tangled pile of limbs and chocolate-stained sweatshirts.

"Just tell the story, Uncle Draco, they get a little defensive," said Izzie. In a very bad stage whisper, she added, "You're in a house full of Gryffindors, you should try and stay impartial."

Draco patted Izzie on the head a little too hard. "Thank you, Izzie," he said, leaning to whisper in her ear, "you and I, we're going to have a talk just before you get Sorted about how a smart girl like you could succeed in Slytherin."

###

Bill, who had been standing at Prince Harry's head, pressed his hand to his face and stared. "I can't believe this. How?"

"And his hair looks so nice too now he's gone," Ginny sobbed. "Truly, it must have had a life of its own!"

Being the eldest and therefore possessed of a little more wit than the rest, Bill bent to inspect Prince Harry's head. "You're right, little sister," he breathed, catching sight of the comb. "What's this?!"

He pulled the comb from Prince Harry's hair and tossed it aside, not noticing the sizzle as it burned the vegetation it had landed on. Prince Harry sucked in a surprised breath and sat up, and the other dwarves gasped and sat back on their heels.

"What happened?" said Prince Harry, rubbing his head. "Ugh, and why does my head hurt?"

Bill narrowed his eyes and thwapped the Prince upside his head. (Wouldn't you have done the same?) "Because you let the Sorceror enchant you, fool! How could you let go of the twine?"

"I-- I--" sputtered Prince Harry, unwilling to reveal why. "I don't know. I must've dropped it."

Narrowing his eyes in disbelief, Bill continued to stare hard at Prince Harry as he barked, "Charlie, Fred, Ron, Ginny, take him back to the house and take the twine with you. George, Percy, help me burn these things."

Prince Harry stood with difficulty and the dwarves led him home, the Sorceror's things were burnt to a cinder and after a cold, quiet dinner and no pudding, they all went to bed. the routine went back to normal and though Prince Harry still thought of the Devastatingly Handsome Prince, he was too afraid to wander far.

The Sorceror, in the meantime, was more furious than ever. He'd been so close to eliminating the brat that had cost him so much, and yet he'd been foiled by a family of dwarves. Still, he'd seen past the wards and now it was a matter of deconstructing them. Keyed as they were against him, he pulled his three top minions away from whatever they'd been assigned to do and instructed them to meet him that very evening, and be prepared not to return to their lives until this task was complete.

That very evening, the Sorceror led his minions out to the woods where the cottage stood, and set them to breaking the wards using the mark in the ground from the end of the twine that Prince Harry had dropped. (Yes, it left a mark - trust me. Magic like that always does.)

For three more days, the Sorceror and his minions worked without rest nor food until the tiniest crack in the protective magic began to unravel into a larger one. Large enough for the Sorceror to creep through. He instructed his two remaining minions to wait for him, and then undertook another transformation, though it cost him another permanent hurt, this time becoming an old woman.

Don't ask about the third minion. The ward-breaking spells had been taxing and had required some sacrifice.

At any rate, on the morning of the fourth day after the incident with the combs, the dwarves trooped off to work, leaving Prince Harry in the cottage, and warning him to never let go of the twine again, should he venture out. But Prince Harry was depressed and clumsy again, this time from lack of motivation. You see, it had occurred to the Prince that if he was destined to live with the dwarves forever, he'd never be more than what amounted to a housekeeper, never be king, and certainly never see the Devastatingly Handsome Prince again. By late morning, he sat on the front porch of the cottage with a sigh that became a fuming growl, all thoughts of what chores he needed to do next replaced by thoughts on what he might do to escape the future he saw all too clearly.

Then, into the clearing came a wizened old woman carrying a basket of apples. Prince Harry popped to his feet and called out warily, "Be on your way, grandmother! We don't want any!"

But the old woman only cackled and tottered forth. "Come now, young man! I'm only sharing the wealth of the land. I saw you sitting there in ill humor and surely you know that the best cure is a red, ripe apple!"

"Nuh-uh," muttered Prince Harry. "I don't know what the cure is yet, but I know it's not an apple."

The old woman reached into the basket and plucked out an apple so shiningly beautiful and red, Prince Harry's eyes were drawn to it, his mouth falling open and watering at the sight.

"You see, my boy, how lovely these apples are?" said the old woman, coaxing him forth by the lure of the apple. "They taste even better than they look."

Prince Harry stared for a moment longer and then shook his head again, though far more slowly and with less conviction. "I don't-- I mean. They might be poisoned. I don't know who you are. And how did you get through here anyway?"

The old woman cackled again. "Elders go anywhere they want, boy, hadn't you heard? Now come, if you want to live to the ripe old age as I have, you'll take an apple." Prince Harry hesitated and the woman brought the apple in her hand close to her lips. "I'll show you," she said, amiably, taking a bite of the apple. "Mmm. you see? No poison here."

The apple did look good, and she had taken a bite... Prince Harry couldn't imagine that they were dangerous, after all. Now children, let this be a lesson - it doesn't matter what strangers tell you, or how they act, because what Prince Harry didn't know was that all of the apples had a poisoned side and an untainted side, and the Sorceror alone knew which was which. As such, Prince Harry crept up to the old woman and held his hand out, and the old woman handed him the apple. "There's a lad," said the woman, eyes glittering. "Eat up."

Prince Harry's eyes darted to the woman and back to the apple, and he finally sunk his teeth into it. It was, indeed the best apple he'd ever eaten, and he took another bite and then another as the old woman stood by and looked on, clucking in grandmotherly pride as he did. From one bite to the next, however, the apple suddenly went sour and Prince Harry blinked as he tried to spit the mouthful out, but his tongue and jaw had already gone numb. He clawed at his throat with his free hand, coughing in his chest, though it didn't make it out of his numbed mouth. Eyes wide, he staggered and fell, the apple rolling out of his hand as he gasped ineffectually, finally succumbing and going still.

The Sorceror in the guise of the old woman was ready, and again withdrew the knife, making to stab the unmoving Prince Harry in order to retrieve the Prince's heart as the next step in fulfilling the terms of his Summoning, and thus clearing the way for his murder of the Duchess his ascension to the throne. Moving faster than the last time, his arm was already in the air to strike, but he was again interrupted, only this time by a flying tackle by both Fred and George in tandem. He swore and spat as the dwarves pummeled him, flailing with more strength than an old woman should have, but less than an evil Sorceror should, finally throwing them aside only when his knife bit into one of them. The dwarf squealed like a stuck pig and held his arm close to his chest and the Sorceror was able to stand and point.

"Witness the fate of those who oppose me!" he shouted as the dwarves wept and threw more enchanted stones, and though he wished to finish the deed, he was forced to vanish into the woods again.

###

"That's my dad!" said Angie proudly, and Arthur shoved her foot.

"Shhh!" he said, cocking his head toward the little ones passed out all around them.

"Well, it was!" she whispered. "Your dad's been all Sensible Eldest all through, 'smy turn now, yeah?"

"Heh," snorted Arthur. "Your dad is Dopey."

Certainly, he thought it was funny until it came time to dodge the retalliatory blow, and it was common knowledge that Angie kicked like a mule.

"God," murmured Harry in a completely unrelated comment. "I wish rocks would've done it."

"Enchanted rocks," said Draco, not bothering telling him to be quiet.

###

Well, the dwarves as you can imagine were wildly distraught at the lifeless body of the Prince, and again they gnashed their teeth and beat at their breasts, wondering how the Sorceror managed his way into their wards and how he could have convinced Prince Harry that he wasn't a danger. Again, they took responsibility for Prince Harry's shortcomings in the area of social savvy, but it was too late to do anything about that now. They searched his body for signs of cursed objects they could perhaps remove, but none were found (as expected in the wake of the basket of apples). This time, there was to be no second chance.

Still, through their grief, they knew they had to do something about keeping his body safe from the Sorceror. To that end, they pooled their magic around a cartful of gems from the mine and created a coffin made of the purest crystal and precious stones that they could seal carefully to keep Prince Harry's heart from being taken. They washed and dressed the body and set it ever so carefully in the coffin, still weeping and wailing over his overwhelming talent for being taken in. Eventually they again pooled their magic and sealed it, forever setting their Prince to rest.

The following afternoon after all of the dwarves had sufficiently recovered from the magic and the wake following, they bore the coffin aloft and with heavy hearts, began the trip to their mine-- the safest place they could conceive of.

No sooner had they crossed the wards did they cross paths with the Devastatingly Handsome Prince. Because you see, to his endless discredit, he'd been also been obsessing on the farm boy that looked so like Prince Harry, bad hair or not. His daily rides out had gotten longer and longer as he sought out the place he'd last seen him. The day the dwarves carried the coffin to the mines was the first day that he'd caught a glimpse of anyone, and he steered his horse in their direction as quickly as he could manage.

"Excuse me, good... um. dwarves. Do you know where I can find the farm boy? The one with the hair as black as night and mussed as a crow in a windstorm?"

Don't look at me like that. They all talked that way. And he was hopeful and a little excited and that was distracting. At least until the dwarves all burst into loud, snotty tears.

"He's dead!" wailed Ginny.

"Dead he is!" added George, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

"At the hands of the evil Sorceror," added Percy, adjusting his glasses as they filled with tears. "In the guise of an old woman, which must be due to some sort of Oedipal complex."

The Devastatingly Handsome Prince could only stare, sick to his stomach and shaking his head in disbelief. "That's not possible," he said. "I saw him five days ago in this very spot."

Ron shook his head, "Of course it's possible. A lot can happen in five days. Like Princes going completely dead."

"It's true," said Bill. "This coffin we carry contains his body, sealed in to keep it safe from the Sorceror, who wants his heart."

The Devastatingly Handsome Prince rode up and peered into the coffin they carried on their shoulders and looked in, and was rendered speechless. It was in fact the farm boy, though why a farm boy would be laid to rest in as rich a fashion as this one had was beyond his understanding. "This-- this Sorceror can't have his heart! It's clearly min-- I mean, why?"

"Because he's really Prince Harry, fled his kingdom this long year!" cried Ginny. "And he was going to discover that he had a liking for short, short women and then I was going to be queen and we were going to live happily ever aaaafter!"

Silence fell over the group as Charlie reached over and lovingly thwapped Ginny on the head.

###

"You're so dead when this gets back to Aunt Ginny," said Angie.

"There are... four of us left conscious," smirked Draco. "Who's going to tell her?"

"What's in it for us not to?" Arthur smirked as he curled around his cushion.

"And that," Draco pointed at him, oblivious to Harry's foot reaching to kick at him across the blanket, "is exactly the kind of thinking I want to hear from all of you."

###

Still shocked, the Devastatingly Handsome Prince found that he couldn't tear his eyes from the coffin. "That's... then let me take him."

The sniffling and honking came to a pause as the seven dwarves turned their attention to him, confused, mumbling various permutations of, "Huh?"

"No," said Bill. "We're taking him to the mine, where he'll be safe from the Sorceror forever."

"And aw, ugh," said George.

Fred sighed, "Ah the weird kinks of the nobility."

The dwarves began to move forward again, but the Devastatingly Handsome Prince turned his steed around to block their progress. "No, it's-- nothing like that. Ew. No-- he-- his body will be safe at the castle. It's... the least I can do."

"Ew," agreed Ron, shifting under the weight of the coffin on his shoulder. "Thanks, but that was a 'no'."

The Devastatingly Handsome Prince tugged on the reins to stay ahead of the group of dwarves, though they tried to get around him, though it wasn't likely, given that they were lucky to come up to his horse's knees. "I'm serious - how could a mine be more safe than a heavily-guarded castle?" The dwarves kept moving and the horse stamped its feet, trying to make sense of a band of surly, snotty midgets trying to trample him, and failing as the Devastatingly Handsome Prince went on. "There are beautiful gardens-- wait please-- you don't understand... I would've given anything..."

At this point in time, a combination of factors set into motion a chain of events that I think we an all agree was a good thing, and directly attributable to the Devastatingly Handsome Prince. You see, Charlie, being sort of soft-hearted sort, was impressed by the utter earnest expression with which the Prince spoke and hesitated. Bill on the other hand was not having any of it, and kept moving. Percy was utterly terrified of horses, and though he'd tried to rein it in (so to speak), by the time the horse began snuffling and stomping, he was shaking in fear, unable to go on. Now, if the coffin was resting on their shoulders, can you imagine what happened when they all moved in a different direction?

Exactly. The coffin tumbled to the ground to a collective gasp of horror. Not that it had far to go, understand, but far enough, and this was an excellent thing, because when the coffin fell, the bit of poisoned apple that had stuck in Prince Harry's throat was shaken loose. He spat out the bit of apple as his eyes snapped open, hands coming up to press against the clear lid of the coffin, eyes wide when he realized he was trapped.

The Devastatingly Handsome Prince stared only for a moment before leaping from his horse and running his hands along the edges of the coffin as the dwarves gasped. "Open it!" he cried as the panicked Prince Harry began beating his fists on the inside of the lid.

"We sealed it!" said Charlie, aghast.

"Never more to be opened again!" added Percy, covering his mouth.

"Not for money or power," George breathed, tugging at his hair.

"Nor glory or fame," finished Fred mirroring his twin.

"Nor greed or anything else!" said Ron, pointing at the coffin. "He was dead! We needed to keep him safe from the Sorceror!"

"Idiots!" said the Devastatingly Handsome Prince. He set his hands on the lid and cocked his head, calculating where best to strike at the seals in order to get it open without harming Prince Harry, murmuring, "I need him."

"Let me," mumbled Ginny, scuffing the ground with her toe. "I left a loophole for--"

The lid disappeared and the Devastatingly Handsome Prince fell through, his hands on either side of Prince Harry's ribs. Their eyes met, and as I'm not inclined to mop up someone else's vomit, I won't give you details. Suffice to say that the Devastatingly Handsome Prince didn't need to hear how Ginny finished that sentence, because he knew exactly what the loophole was for. He waited until Prince Harry's arms were wound firmly around his neck before he straightened up so that he could lift Prince Harry up and out of the coffin without having to let go and for once, grinned a bit stupidly as he said, "Hi. I rescued you."

Prince Harry blushed in a rather appealing manner and said, "Thanks. Could you, um. Put me down now?"

"I don't know," said the Devastatingly Handsome Prince. "I've never rescued anyone before. I was under the impression that I got to carry you off."

"This is all well and good and rather touching," said Bill as Ginny sobbed into his shirt. "But the Sorceror--"

"Can get stuffed," said the Devastatingly Handsome Prince. "Now, let's talk about this carrying off business. May I? Please? You've no idea how long I've wanted to."

"Um," said Prince Harry though truly he was beginning to warm up to this being carried around business.

"He's not safe with you!" shouted Bill, pointing toward the roiling cloud bank on the far horizon. "The only safe place left is the cottage!"

"Oh yes, so safe, he was dead when I finally found him," sniped the Devastatingly Handsome Prince. "Good show." Still, his eyes darted to the cloudbank and back to Prince Harry. "What do you say? A cottage or a castle? Stay a farm boy or a be a prince again as befits you?"

Prince Harry's expression clouded over as well. "They're my friends. Put me down!"

The Devastatingly Handsome Prince did indeed set Prince Harry down, though his hands lingered around his waist, tilting his head and as near to begging as he'd ever been and ever hoped to be again. "Them or me?"

A lifetime at the end of a tether, well-meaning as it was, flashed before Prince Harry's eyes. Friends or not, it was terrifyingly miserable compared to what life might be like with the Devastatingly Handsome Prince, and he made his decision. His eyes darted to the cloudbank and back and pulled the Devastatingly Handsome Prince close for more of the audience-vomit-inducing shenanigans that I trust those of you who are so inclined can imagine well enough. Then he thanked the dwarves for all they had done, wished them farewell and climbed up onto the large warhorse, shaky and excited and fearful as the Devastatingly Handsome Prince climbed up behind him and spurred the beast forth into a fast run all the way back to the castle.

"Have you a plan for dealing with this Sorceror?" asked Prince Harry over his shoulder.

"No. But there's got to be something at Castle Malfoy," breathed the Devastatingly Handsome Prince as he spurred the horse on.

"...Castle Malfoy? You know the Malfoys?" said Prince Harry, brow furrowed. "But--"

The Devastatingly Handsome Prince grinned. "Right. We missed that bit," he said, dropping a kiss on Prince Harry's neck; one which I have no compunction about relating given that it appears that all but one member of the audience is now asleep. "Prince Draco Malfoy, at your rescue. There are a lot of middle names that go between, but my friends are willing to overlook them."

Prince Harry blinked in surprise, his hands tightening where they were, on the arm around his middle and on the horn of the saddle. "But my parents--"

"Couldn't stand mine and vice versa, I know," smirked the Devastatingly Handsome Prince, who we all know that we can now refer to as Prince Draco. "And you've got your ridiculous aunt to thank for reopening diplomatic relations. I'm afraid she had vague ideas of conquer, so we were already prepared for some sort of aggression. Now we know what we're dealing with. And we'll deal with it, I assure you."

Shutting his eyes, Prince Harry leaned and let Prince Draco do the navigating as they neared the palace gates. "My hero," he sighed, and Prince Draco was certain that he'd never heard any phrase quite as satisfying to date, though intent upon getting his prize back to his rooms and seeing if he couldn't improve upon that statement.

###

Draco paused to shoot a grin at Harry, who was shaking his head in amusement. Angie and Arthur had both shut their eyes, and if they weren't entirely asleep, they would be any moment now, and Izzie was sprawled against his side, mouth slightly open as she breathed softly and evenly.

"But that's a story for next time, as is the tale of how they vanquished the Sorceror and Prince Harry's evil aunt and uncle, which they did," smirked Draco as he slid Izzie's upper body off of his lap carefully and onto the soft blanket. As he scooted off of the blanket and stood, he added, "But you knew that already." He stretched his arms across his chest as he watched Harry struggle. "Do you need some help there?"

Harry had tried to set Celina down as well, but her fingers were tangled in his shirt and clamped around his ear, and every time he made to slide her off of his lap, she rolled right back and tightened her grip with a snuffling sigh. "Um," he said as he tried again, finally wedging his own hand between her fingers and pulling them off of his ear. "I think I'm alright." Celina's chubby fingers flailed a moment longer and then settled back onto the blanket, and Harry took an unsteady step back, shaking out his leg, and then holding it very still. "Ow ow-- numb."

With a snort of amusement, Draco pointed toward the kitchen. "I need a drink. Coming?"

"Yeah, yeah..." said Harry as he began to hobble around the blanket, still muttering, "Ow." As he hobbled around the blanket, he caught a sliver of Angie's eye showing and he put his finger up to his lips in a shushing gesture, eyes pleading for her to go back to playing possum, if not actually sleeping.

Angie smiled and then shut her eye all the way again, and Harry thought that she might just have bought herself an extra birthday present this year.

"Haven't got all night here, Potter, my throat is absolutely parched," said Draco lazily as he walked away, knowing that Harry was following, grousing as the heard the swinging door behind him, "How exactly does anyone fall asleep at the end of a story? At the beginning, certainly, given nothing exciting has usually happened yet, but the end?"

"Kids," Harry excused it with a shrug, crossing the room to lean against the counter where Draco was already pouring something undoubtedly alcoholic. "Happy now?"

"Ecstatic," deadpanned Draco as he capped the bottle and shelved it. "I should charge for this caliber of entertainment."

"Hmm," said Harry as he took the drink off of the counter and took a sip, oblivious of Draco's withering glare. "Draco Malfoy, professional nanny."

"I don't bloody well think so," said Draco, holding out an expectant hand, unamused. "Thief."

Harry held the glass out but used it to reel Draco in, grinning as he was pinned pleasantly to the counter. "Good story."

"Liked that, did you?" asked Draco, overly smug as his fingers slipping up and under Harry's shirt. "Being the damsel in distress for once?"

"Not as much as you liked being the knight in shining armor, I don't think," smirked Harry.

"Never tell a soul," said Draco as he took a long sip and set the glass down on the counter.

"What's in it for me?" asked Harry, pressing a kiss to Draco's exposed throat.

"Oh, he can be taught," purred Draco, hands straying around Harry's waist and just barely into the back of Harry's trousers. "I'm impressed. I had doubts--"

"Push the kids down a well for some quiet time, did you?" came Ron's voice from the kitchen door, apparently inured enough to seeing Malfoy in his best mate's personal space that he might almost have been kidding.

"Of course not, Ronald," said Luna as she walked in behind Ron, circling him and moving directly toward Harry and Draco, kissing their cheeks without a second thought as to what they might have been doing before she walked in (though they had pulled apart a little way). "Don't be silly. You know Celina could get herself out of a well. How did it go?"

"They're menaces the lot of them," grimaced Draco, and Luna smiled wistfully.

"Yes," she sighed. "Isn't it wonderful?"

"They were great, Luna," said Harry, running a hand through his hair. "And they're all passed out in the sitting room."

"Drugged them, then, mate?" asked Ron, his hand on Luna's shoulder. "That's not a bad idea, you know."

"Idea free of charge, Weasley," said Draco. "My compliments. Try slipping it in their cocoa."

Harry snickered. "Or you could just tell them a far-fetched tale and go on and on until they fall asleep. That seemed to work, too."

"Snitch," Draco glared.

"Think it's time for us to go home," said Harry as he cuffed Ron's shoulder and then reached out to squeeze Luna's hand. "You've got things in hand until the others get back?"

"Yeah, yeah, go on," said Ron, waving his hand and making a conscious effort to not look as Draco's hand slid around Harry's waist again, his wand in hand.

"Thank you both very much," said Luna, pressing a paper bag into Harry's hands. "Here. We brought you cake."

It was an inarguable fact that Draco was very easily bought some days. His eyebrows shot up, "Oooh. Chocolate?"

Harry laughed and elbowed him as Luna nodded with a contented grin. "See you Wednesday?"

"Wednesday," agreed Harry, squirming as Draco murmured something in his ear about telling him the rest of the story. "Um. See you!"

The door opened again as just as they disappeared from the kitchen with a with a loud crack and they missed entirely Fred and Angelina walking into the kitchen, Fred pointing over his shoulder in the direction of the yard and asking, "Oi-- what happened to the oak?"

Which was fine. They had a happily ever after to get to.

###


End file.
